


All will be forgiven

by grantairrible



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, Misunderstandings, Nonbinary Grantaire, Other, Trans Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6166402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantairrible/pseuds/grantairrible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He doesn’t care about me.”<br/>Enjolras flinched at their tone of voice as much as their words, and all he wanted to do was burst in there and bundle them into his arms and apologise a thousand times over. But it was better this way. Enjolras didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as Grantaire, not when he’d betrayed them, even if he still loved them with all his heart.</p><p>Months after Enjolras breaks up with Grantaire, he overhears them talking to Combeferre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All will be forgiven

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Spring Awakening's 'I believe'.
> 
> This was always meant to be part of a longer fic but I could never get it to work the way I wanted it to, so I'm publishing this part. I hope you enjoy it <3

“I can’t do this, you know I can’t.”

Enjolras paused at the sound of Combeferre’s voice, not wanting to interrupt, his raised fist an inch away from the door.

“Can’t, or won’t?” The answering voice was Grantaire’s, and Enjolras knew he shouldn’t listen, but this was _Grantaire_ , and he hadn’t seen them in months, and, well. Enjolras missed them.

Enjolras heard Combeferre take a shuddering breath. “I can’t do this to Enjolras.”

“I see.” Grantaire’s voice was remarkably even, but Enjolras knew them, knew them well, and could tell they were upset. “This is embarrassing, I don’t know why I-”

“Wait, R.” Combeferre sounded desperate, and Enjolras was certain he was intruding, but he couldn’t tear himself away. “You know how much it would hurt Enjolras-”

“Yeah, right.”

“-when he still obviously cares about you.”

Enjolras heard the creak of bedsprings. Grantaire must have dropped, or collapsed, onto Combeferre’s bed.

“He doesn’t care about me.”

Enjolras flinched at their tone of voice as much as their words, and all he wanted to do was burst in there and bundle them into his arms and apologise a thousand times over. But it was better this way. Enjolras didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as Grantaire, not when he’d betrayed them, even if he still loved them with all his heart.

“Grantaire-”

“He’s the one who broke up with me. Why should it matter that there’s- if we-”

“Grantaire-” Combeferre must have joined Grantaire on the bed, the mattress creaking again.

“Why does he keep fucking up my chances at happiness?”

With that, Enjolras turned away and left as silently as he could. He didn’t need to hear any more.

 

* * *

 

Courfeyrac wasn’t home when Enjolras dropped by, probably out with Marius and Cosette - and Enjolras was still blindsided by that because _Marius_ , really? -  and Enjolras didn’t really want to explain the situation to anyone else, so he kept walking. Hopefully the people he passed would think the freezing wind was the cause for his damp eyes. After more than an hour of walking, the sun started to set. Enjolras knew the statistics, and worry picked away at him, so he headed back home while it was still light.

The apartment was dark when Enjolras returned, the only light being the sliver shining out from under Combeferre’s door. Enjolras wasn’t sure if he wanted Grantaire to still be there, or not. He wanted to see them with all his heart, but he had broken both their hearts, and never wanted to see that dead look in their eyes again.

Sometimes, Enjolras wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t told Grantaire. If he had just continued being with them, hiding the secret deep down, while Grantaire loved him in ignorance. Unconditionally.

Enjolras hadn’t been able do it, when he’d tried. He couldn’t even tell Grantaire what had happened, couldn’t bear to imagine Grantaire’s reaction when he told them he’d betrayed them. Grantaire had loved him, and Enjolras hated himself for that not being enough.

Enjolras’ hopes that Grantaire would have left were proven to be unfounded minutes later, when the low murmur of voices, then the slick sound of kissing, could be heard through the thin walls. When the quiet _oh-oh-oh_ s of Grantaire’s that Enjolras had been so familiar with started up, Enjolras covered his ears with a pillow, and tried to keep the sound of him crying as silent as possible.

But, as Enjolras had just experienced for himself, the walls of the apartment were paper-thin, and once it had been long enough for Enjolras to tentatively uncover his ears, grateful to only hear Grantaire’s snores - Enjolras was almost lulled to sleep by the sound of them, and how right it felt, despite having complained about the noise when they were dating - Combeferre slipped into Enjolras’ room, an almost silent shadow.

“Enjolras, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were home. I shouldn’t have-”

Enjolras shook his head, his golden curls catching the beam of street light that streamed through the gap in his curtains. “No, don’t apologise. I want you to be happy. Both of you.”

“Not if it hurts you.” Combeferre sat on the edge of the bed and extended a tentative hand, which Enjolras leant into. “Then I’m not happy.”

“I’m the one who broke up with them, I have no right-”

“Why _did_ you break up with them?”

Enjolras resisted the urge to hide under his covers. “I wasn’t… I didn’t act on it, but I wanted another person, too. It wasn’t fair to them.”

“Did you tell them, and let them decide?”

Enjolras shook his head again. “I fell in love with someone else, how could they forgive me for that?”

“Who was it?” Enjolras turned at the sound of Grantaire’s voice, rough with sleep. He hadn’t noticed them waking, caught up in talking to Combeferre, and the sight of Grantaire, after all these months, made Enjolras freeze. It was dark, and he could barely see them, but it was apparent they were clad only in a tight pair of boxer-briefs that Enjolras wanted to tear off.

“I-” Enjolras ducked his head, and then glanced up at Combeferre beneath his lashes. Wasn’t it obvious?

“Because if it’s who I think it is, we might have something in common. We might even have had that thing in common when we were dating.” There was a hint of a smile in Grantaire’s voice, but the fact that Enjolras had hurt them was still clear.

Enjolras felt his heart drop. “What?”

“Oh, Enjolras.” Combeferre sounded disappointed and sad but _fond_ , and Enjolras stared up at the silhouette of him in the darkness. “This is why you communicate.”

There was the rustle of skin against fabric as Grantaire sank onto the bed, facing Enjolras and Combeferre. Enjolras swallowed heavily at the scent of them, the heady smell of sex and sweat, and Enjolras wanted them with all of his being. Well, nearly all. A large part of him was consumed with wanting the man who was sitting next to him, a faint smile on his lips.

“Do you still love me?” Grantaire asked, and their face moved into a crack of light from outside, illuminating an iris in a flash of gold.

“Yes.” Enjolras’ voice was shaky, but his resolve was firm.

“And do you love Combeferre?”

Enjolras took a deep breath and closed his eyes, so he wouldn’t have to see either Grantaire or Combeferre’s reactions. “Yes.”

“You’re an idiot.” Grantaire said fondly. Enjolras chanced a look at them. “And I’m still pissed at you and hurt, but I really fucking love you.”

“I’m sorry.” Enjolras said. “I missed you.”

“I’m not forgiving you just yet, but we’ll get there.” Grantaire said, and then tackled Enjolras to the bed, kissing him soundly. “I missed you too, emotionally constipated as you are.”

“Can I-?”

Grantaire sat up at the sound of Combeferre’s voice, and shoved Enjolras at him. “Go ahead.”

Enjolras laughed, but then Combeferre’s hand was warm on his side, another on his shoulder.

“You can.” Enjolras said. Combeferre kissed him, and the first brush of lips was tentative but promising.

“So,” Enjolras said, when he finally pulled away from Combeferre, heart pounding, “Where do we go from here?”

“I want to try again.” Grantaire reached down to take Enjolras’ hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “With honesty, and open communication. And Combeferre.”

The gleam of Combeferre’s smile caught the little light in the room. “And Combeferre, huh?”

“And Combeferre.” Enjolras agreed. “If you’re amenable, of course.”

“Amenable? God, I’ve been in love with both of you for ages, and you’re asking if I’m _amenable_?”

“Well, yes.” Grantaire smirked at him. “Communication is important, remember?”

Combeferre rolled his eyes. “ _Yes_ , you dork, I am amenable.”

“I didn’t even consider this as being a possibility,” Enjolras said. “I hurt you both in the process, and I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you fucked up.” Grantaire’s smile hadn’t faded. “But it was a mistake, and I know you had only the best intentions. I can’t stay mad at you for long, I never could.’

“I wasn’t even mad at you in the first place.”

Enjolras’ chest tightened, and he inexplicably felt like he was going to cry. From happiness, from relief, from sheer emotion, he didn’t know. “I love you.”

“We know, Enjolras, it’s okay.” Combeferre kissed his temple. “Go to sleep.”

Enjolras had no idea how this was going to work, how the already volatile mixture of him and Grantaire would react to the addition of Combeferre, but it didn’t matter. He loved them, both of them, and he was willing to at least try. Mind blissfully free of guilt and sadness, Enjolras lay between Combeferre and Grantaire, and drifted off within moments, lulled to sleep by the warm bodies on either side of him.


End file.
